EDEN
by cupcakeriot
Summary: A gifted telekinetic engineer crosses paths with someone who, by all logic and reasoning, should not exist; with him, she learns that not all time is chronological, though each moment of time is essential. Sequel to NOVA. Original Characters. Rated M for violence and mature content.
1. PROLOGUE

**Disclaimer: Original characters dominate this story. Aliens don't own Twilight.**

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**PROLOGUE**

_Galli Quadrant, 5073_

The Central Building quakes as another blast pounds against the ancient, preserved foundation, the force fields doing little to yield damage. The enemy, it seems, has quickly figured the best methods of winning the war and, son of the General or not, Orion wasn't sure if there was anything he could do to save his planet or his people. They would die in this war – all of them – and along with their death, millions of years worth of knowledge and culture would be lost. Surviving was doubtlessly near-impossible.

Few, if any, would survive.

There must be something he could do.

"Sir," a robotic voice drones dully, batteries low as the android dutifully assists his master at the height of battle. "You must vacate the Central Building. Time is running low. I calculate the odds of your evacuation to be less than-"

Orion ignores the android – its been saying much the same thing for the last several minutes and Orion has no plans of leaving until he's found _something_.

His enemy is strange and powerful. The leader had risen to power unexpectedly, his followers incredibly – and often disturbingly – diverse in their abilities. In previous months, Orion had encountered no fewer than seventeen soldiers who possessed strange, unnatural abilities. Throwing flames. Speed unlike any in the universe. Hypnosis through _touch_. And each solider was as equally deranged as the last, if not more so. Mindless in intensity and ferocity.

Orion slams his hands, fingers long and spider-like, against his computer console as the screen flicks between holos, each transition interspersed with a fuzz of noise that indicated the failure of the computer system. The Central Building was growing weaker by the moment. It was losing power now.

"Sir," the android intones again. "The percentage of your survival is now calculated at-"

"Quiet!" Orion yells at the android, to the shaking room, his voice deep and echoing through the rounded dome walls. The architecture of the Central Building was nothing short of the epitome of Cel'est pride – Orion knew this, had grown to appreciate the center of Cel'est intelligence over the last six hundred years as he gained momentum in his career. He, a trained soldier, had defied the path his father set out for him, had chosen a path of intellectual pursuits and preservation over espionage. The General was still furious.

It had been just over six hundred years since Orion made that decision.

Cel'ests held grudges for an exceedingly large time.

They could afford to.

_Provided we survive this damn war, of course,_ he corrects himself, tapping harsh fingers against the computer console. _There has to be something_.

He feels hopeless.

The enemy had just popped out of nowhere one day five months ago – if Orion didn't know better, he would have thought time travel responsible.

But that couldn't be right. Only Cel'ests had cultivated time travel – had harnessed the unique power from their very genetic codes. No other race had come close to mimicking the results.

Until The Professor.

They knew too little about the man who claimed to be a scientist, but seemed more like an evil geneticist. From what their intelligence had gathered, The Professor created his soldiers. Until just yesterday, the identity of The Professor had remained shrouded in mystery.

Now they knew his name – which was why the attacks on Cel'est had grown so vicious so quickly and why the employees of the Central Building had fled during the morning hours while Orion foolishly stayed behind, trying to find some crack in the mask his enemy wore.

He had to save his people.

Prove something to his father.

He could feel the need deep, deep in his bones.

And-

_There_.

The building quakes again as another explosion bounces off the force field, only this time the lights in Orion's spacious domed office bleed red in emergency as the generators kick on, and his android's voice slows and few notches. Determinedly, nearly uncaring of the danger, Orion strains his vision to read the fading holoscreen.

All he needs is a name – and a time – and he can figure out how to fix this war, maybe even prevent it from starting in the first place.

The screen flicks and glows weakly, but Orion can read enough:

_Eden. Terra, born 2624. Inventor. And – Giidas-Terran hybrid. Second child of – wait. No._

_No._

The screen fades to black. The red lights in the room flash again in warning. His android has paused in motion, its mouth hanging open, black eyes dead. Reaching a shaking hand up, Orion scrubs his face as his mind reels.

The very person he needs to finish this war – or prevent it – is the granddaughter of The Professor.

_Nothing is ever a coincidence. History teaches that_. In fact, Orion's entire profession was designed to examine how _not _coincidental history was.

This, though. _This_ was dangerous. He could rupture the entire timeline. He could create a paradox so complex that he would cease to exist. The dangers would be immense and impossible to foretell.

And not his decision to make.

The building quakes again as Orion reaches for his Clock, the chunk of metal wrapped neatly around his left wrist, the face flicking open as he presses his finger to the scanner inside the watch-face, focusing his mind on the location he desires to be. His teeth ache with the force that he clenches his jaw as the room fades around him and his feet touch down on the gilded ground of the War Room.

The General – his father – appears to be waiting for him, his face haggard in a way Orion had never seen before. Truly, he now shows all three thousand of his years. It twists something in Orion's gut, but he pushes through and doesn't bother with pleasantries. The conditioning he underwent as a soldier kicks in and Orion salutes once, shoulders back, head bowed for a brief moment.

The others in the room – the Captain, Timeline experts, other militants – scurry through the large, incredibly secret room, half of their eyes on the screens as they watch The Professor destroy their small planet.

None of them know why The Professor has targeted Cel'est, though Orion suspects now that he has designs to harness their genetic data for another model of soldiers to use in his quest to overtake the universe. He hasn't shared this theory, but from one glance at his father, he's sure he's not the only one who has reached this conclusion.

Ignoring the fact that this is the first time he has seen his father in over six hundred years, Orion readies himself mentally to become the solider he always hated being and says, "I know how to stop Ed'vard."

Orion did not suspect that stopping The Professor and saving his people would become an increasingly complex mission to complete.

Time, it turns out, works in mysterious ways.

As do hearts.

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**A/N: Here it is. The start of EDEN. Notice that the chapters may be quite a bit shorter than those in NOVA and this story will not update weekly, probably. I have a second degree in the works and I'm trying to get published, so my sci-fi is on a back-to-middle burner. It will **_**not**_** be abandoned though. I have plans. **

**You will notice some Doctor Who, Star Trek, Star Wars, and probably Firefly influences in this novella-sequel-whateverthisis. Fangirl and fanboy with me!**

**Anyway, as always, be brutally honest. I can take it.**

**~cupcakeriot**


	2. ONE

**Disclaimer: Aliens don't own Twilight.**

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**ONE**

_Terra, Paris, 2640_

Orion arrives in 2640 with a subtle whoosh and feet firmly balanced on perfectly even terrain – a sidewalk, right in the heart of a city. This is not what he was expecting. A city of towering silver skyscrapers and ancient Parisian apartments, but not of any import as far as he can tell. Terran culture bores him.

But there had to be a reason he was here.

For Cel'ests, time travel was a blood-driven, bone-deep intuition modified only by technology designed to hone natural adaptive traits. As it is, the device strapped onto his wrist is blank-screened and he can feel the solar flares locked within this body cresting in waves. Which, not good. And how did his Timeclock become broken in the transition? It's never happened before to any Cel'est, at least not to Orion's knowledge.

He cranes his neck, searching the Paris cityscape before him for any clue as to why he was dropped here of all places. He felt to sense of urgency to save his planet from the current attack – time travel was remarkably convenient that way. And it's not as if his goal wasn't to prevent the war from happening in the first place-

There, right across the street. Her. She is why he stopped here.

She's walking the pace of someone well-suited to efficiency, an easy stride that was unbidden by any time crunch as many Terrans were so afflicted, eyes drawn to a device in her hands that she appears to be talking to – a comunit, probably. But then, she wasn't exactly Terran, was she? The violent veins beneath nearly translucent skin, the silver-edged nails, the curved point of her ear, and the unsettling gunmetal grey of her eyes gave her away – Giidas. Eden. She's much more lithe and frail-looking than Orion had assumed, and years younger too. Odd that his Timeclock stopped him here. He doubts she's old enough to have done anything of import, much less design the formula and technology that allowed the time continuum to be manipulated. Yet he's obviously here for a reason. If his Timeclock wasn't busted, he would check as to why.

Ah. Or maybe that's why. She is supposed to be an engineer, isn't she? While he may be perfectly capable of fixing his own Timeclock, it would be much more advantageous if she fixed it. Perhaps it would intrigue her enough that she would assist him without any manipulation on his part.

Determined, he follows her through one of the more traditional gateways leading to a courtyard that she navigates without lifting her head from her preoccupation. Orion is so focused on her that he doesn't notice another person in the courtyard until he has quite literally stepped on her toes.

"My apologies," he says quickly to the young woman with jet hair and three birthmarks beneath her left eye. He takes pause, wondering if she is also Cel'est as her birthmarks resemble that of a childhood friend. But, no, the darkness of her eyes indicates she is Terran. A pity. He has a feeling assistance with Eden would be helpful.

"It's fine," the woman smiles.

Orion nods distractedly, stepping around her and into the building that Eden had evidently disappeared in. He has stopped in the doorway, contemplating the tug in the center of his chest that indicates his intuition, when the girl he'd run into speaks from behind him. He looks back at her, pushing a hand through his hair. "What?"

"I said, who are you looking for? You don't live in this building, I don't think."

He blinks. He'd forgotten how courteous some Terrans are. Amusing. Half could start a genocidal war, and the other half have more manners than the entire galaxy combined. "A girl named Eden," he replies honestly. Cel'ests don't lie – they value honesty and bend the truth when necessary. It doesn't seem necessary to circumvent honesty with this girl. She probably won't remember him when time shifts, anyway.

The woman frowns. "Eden? I don't – Oh. You mean Allene."

Orion searches his memory. Right. Eden was not her real name. Alias. He must remember that. "Yes," he replies smoothly. "She's a friend of mine. I'm in town for a visit."

"She's on the top floor," the woman says kindly, unsuspecting of his frankly amaturish slip. He can't afford to be sloppy now. "Do you think you could ask her to keep the volume minimized after midnight? The clanking is terribly loud."

Clanking?

"No problem," Orion answers, watching as the woman walks away with a polite smile, his mind already on the girl who had the potential to change the entire course of history.

He had the greatest feeling that Eden would prove to be the most interesting person in the universe.

Or, at the very least, his universe.

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**A/N: I know. I know, it's been _forever_ since I last updated this. But, life happens, right? Don't know when I'll update this again - got to get my head on straight and find the plot that I lost when my computer BSOD'd on me - but it's not abandoned.**

**Anyway, so much love to those who bother reading this!**

**~cupcakeriot**


	3. TWO

**Disclaimer: Aliens don't own Twilight.**

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**TWO**

_Terra, Paris, 2640_

Though he very much wants to, Orion does not immediately seek Eden - Allene - out to plead for "advice" on fixing his Timeclock. It would save time, perhaps, but he would also be remiss to observe the girl - because she's nothing more than a slip of a thing - before making his move on the target.

And he has plenty of time. No rush.

Instead, he carefully stations himself on the roof of another Terran building across from the target's main window, which appears to be a workshop of sorts that he can't even begin to mentally catalog given the chaos.

He watches. He learns her patterns - learns her.

She is much different than her file led him to believe. Not as serious as he'd assumed. It's interesting. Humanizing, even.

He can't equate this teenager to the destruction the products of her mind eventually cause.

So, he watches and waits for anything that might make this mission more justified, anything that might solidify the stance he's taken - or anything that might change that stance.

Really, he has two options - save the girl, or eliminate her entirely.

There's no helping it, though.

Orion knows he's already made his choice.

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**A/N: _Absolutely floored_ by the response you guys gave, considering my continued silence on this story. So, with that in mind, I figure that I'd post chapters in whatever length they end in; usually, I add a bunch of scenes together until I reach a set minimum page number, _but_ while working on Original Fiction, I've found that I write better without those types of constraints.**

**That said, updates will be _extremely_ varied, both in length of the chapters and in length of the time between chapters. Hopefully, discrepancies in updating will be relatively short, but, well - life. **

**Thank you to everyone for reading. So much peace and love! **

**~cupcakeriot**


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